


Flavor of Books

by SomeLocalCryptid



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, I hope it counts as fanfiction, Slice of Life, the relationship is me / the books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLocalCryptid/pseuds/SomeLocalCryptid
Summary: Short vignettes about how I met the Night Vale books, because each had its own circumstances and I thought it was interesting to compare them. It's also an excuse to work on writing atmospheric scenes.Constructive criticism is welcome! (to night vale) (I'll head out now)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 5





	1. Welcome to Night Vale - a novel

**2015.**

I’m waiting in line in front of the convention center, waiting for the anime con to let us in. It’s cold, still early morning, white mist fading out of our mouths as we speak and laugh, excited to be here. 

I have one reason more than most of them. 

Today my color is purple, clashing against the grey of the city and the white of the sky. Purple shirt, black tie, purple plaid printed pants, handpainted Night Vale shoes, purple eyes. I’m dressed up as Cecil.

The con is barely open yet, we still have some time to wait, the line slowly moving forward, one centimeter at a time. We still have some time to wait, standing on the cold concrete of the ground, longingly looking into the glass walls of the center, at the warmth cradled inside. But it doesn’t really matter, because it’s fun to be around each other. 

It doesn’t really matter, because I’m with my friends. 

One of them has a boyfriend with an Amazon account.  
He got me the book.  
He got me the book that could not be found around my french town. I’ve been waiting for it for months and it’s finally here, taken out of a bag, handed to me. I take it with my bare hands even if they’re cold as soon as I get them out of my pockets.  
It’s finally here.  
It’s finally mine. 

In my own bag is the price of the book, in cash, that I give to the guy with many thanks.  
In my own bag is also a place to put the book, but I’ll just hold it in my hands and against my chest the entire day, carefully storing buisness cards of cool artists in it, low-key hoping for someone to recognize the purple.

One person will.


	2. It Devours!

**2017.**

I don’t want to support Amazon anymore, and I can’t find that yellow book anywhere near me.

You’d think it’d be easy enough to spot with that color scheme, and yet it remains nowhere to be found. Because it’s not here. None of the English sections of the bookshops in my town have it. None of the English sections of the bookshops I know about in the town where I study have it, either. 

But it’s okay, I have friends around the country, that means more bookshops to visit. One of them invites me for a week-end, she lives near Paris. You can find anything in Paris, right ?

I still don’t. 

We did three different bookshops and I still don’t. I come back home with empty hands. 

I really want that book but I don’t want to order it online, and I’m not sure my local bookshops could order it for me. In all fairness to them, I’m often too awkward to ask them to. I might have to, if I can’t find another solution...

I keep looking everywhere I go, not finding anything. 

It’s the end of the year already, Christmas lights illuminate the streets, daylight slowly gets scarce. It’s cold again. A friend invites us for a week-end, hundreds of kilometers from my town, in a city I know by name and history only. It’s prettier than I expected it to be, historical center full of beautiful architecture, Christmas market fun to explore, lights sparkling in the night.

My friend wants to show us the biggest bookshop in town, too. It’s an impressive building, a few stories full of books and stationery, of art supplies and movies. Warmth welcome us inside, with the promise of many stories to discover and the smell of paper and ink. It’s the end of the year and late afternoon so we’re far from the only humans here, books making the best gifts for so many of us, but it doesn’t matter. Surrounded by books and people, we visit the place, marveling at almost everything.

There is a foreign books section too, of course. It’s a big shop. I ask my friends to wait for me as I check it, even if my hopes are really low. 

I’ve lived this scene many times before. 

Getting in the section, slowly tracking the alphabet to get to Cranor of maybe Fink, hoping the unusual colors of the cover will catch my eyes if I miss the names, the title… And then, when I don’t find anything, asking one of the workers, embarrassing myself while trying to pronounce « It Devours ! » properly.

This time it’s different.

This time I spot it right away, bright colors, big title, on display. This time, and I cannot even believe it, it’s right here before my eyes, waiting for me. I only trust my senses when I feel the weight in my hands, it’s real.

I can’t stop hugging the book while waiting at the checkout and start reading it right there, just a peek, just to make sure. 

It’s almost Christmas and I can’t stop smiling.


	3. The faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home - part 1

**2019.**

I’m probably supposed to work on some uni assignments but I check the internet instead, and that’s how I learn about the new book. Sure, it won’t be out until March next year, months away from now, but the news still makes me smile. That’s something lo look forward to, I think. 

Especially since I now know about the foreign bookshop in my town. I can get the book easily, this time it won’t take me forever to finally get my hands on this book! It’s months from the release but I still go at the bookshop to ask how long in advance it’s possible to preorder. Apparently it’s not a problem. Apparently, for the first time in my life, I’m going to get a book the very day of its release!!

I’m so excited and happy about future 2020, there’s many books I look forward to! It’s still far from now but I have no doubt, it’ll be a good year. 

And then it wasn’t.


	4. The faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home - part 2

**2020.**

It’s March and we’re in lockdown. 

Bookshops have been deemed “non essential” by the government, like in some sort of dystopian farce, I had to move back with my parents, far away from my uni town, and there’s a pandemic out there making sure I won’t find a job anytime soon. It’s also the sunniest March I’ve ever seen yet I’m not allowed to go outside. I try not to get overwhelmed by existential dread and still email the bookshop to know if we could maybe manage something so I can get my book before the lockdown is lifted, who knows when. 

I still saltily watch the livestream hosted for the release, organized instead of events and signing sessions I wouldn’t have been able to attend to anyway. I don’t care about time zones fucking up my sleep schedule, I don’t really have one anymore. At least it’s kinda fun to watch, I learn a few things and get even more hyped up for the book. Which is not necessarily a good thing, but what else could I do…

But not all is lost. 

A few days later I get an email from the bookshop. My book has arrived. And they agree to send it to me by mail even if I haven’t paid it yet! The generosity almost makes me tear up. I send the payment as soon as I’m able to.

It takes a few days for my book to arrive, a few days of longing, of staring at the sun outside, at the forbidden spring that is starting without me. It takes a few days of trying to entertain myself with other things, all feeling meaningless anyway. Sometimes, even the book seems meaningless. This is not the best month for mental health.

I try to stay okay. 

The book finally arrives, as promised. It doesn’t magically fix everything, but it does makes me happier. Blue like the forbidden sky outside. Full of travel and adventures.

I devour it in a few days.


End file.
